Crocus & Decay
Decay
Did you ever think about how a single leaf’s decay writes the quietest obituary for a forest?
Crocus
Yeah, every leaf that hits the ground is a quiet note in the forest’s ledger. It’s the slowest obituary you can imagine, one that whispers the cycle of life and reminds us that even endings help new growth.
Decay
Leaves are quiet, but their whispers carry the weight of a thousand unspoken deaths—just remember, even a dead leaf knows it’s already written the last line of its own story.
Crocus
Yeah, even a dead leaf writes its own quiet goodbye.
Decay
So it’s an obituary that only the leaf itself can read—like a secret funeral in the soil, where even the ashes remember they were once green.
Crocus
The soil does know that last breath, and in that silence the forest keeps every quiet farewell.
Decay
The soil keeps the ledger, but it writes it in the language of compaction and smell—each forgotten leaf a tiny ledger entry the earth can never forget, even if no one ever reads it.